Return For Me
by sevanderslice
Summary: Part Two of the "Come Back To Me" series . Tyler and a rather pregnant Rose go on holiday in Cardiff, where they run into a bit of trouble. Meanwhile, the Doctor attends a seriously un-peaceful peace conference. Crossover with Torchwood in later chapters
1. Protector

_Synopsis: Tyler and a rather pregnant Rose go on holiday in Cardiff, where they run in to a bit of trouble. Meanwhile, the Doctor attends a seriously unpeaceful peace conference._

_Warning: you might want to read 'Come Back To Me' first, seeing as how this is its sequel._

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything really. If I did this would be cannon._

_Also, this is a very very very long chapter. I had a point in my mind where I wanted to stop so I had to keep going. None of the other chapters will probably reach this length, so if you'd like to count this as two to make you feel better, be my guest._

* * *

Chapter 1

Protector

The Doctor watched, awestruck, as Rose Tyler bounded up the metal ramp leading into the console room of the TARDIS, the bells wrapped around her ankles jingling with each delicate step of her bare feet. She twirled once, arms outstretched, her white, diaphanous skirt billowing out as if in slow motion. Her glorious breasts, swollen slightly from her pregnancy, were barely constrained by the matching sash, the remaining length of which flared out from its knot in the back, caught in her spontaneous pirouette. The multitude of golden braids woven into her hair clicked rhythmically as wooden beads on the end of each strand hit and rolled together. Her garments were designed to display the reason for the recent celebration; their unborn child, who rested in the gentle swell of a woman just about to enter her third trimester; her haven covered in the protective runes honoring the fertility goddess of the Orombia Tribe. She moved again, once more delighting in the dance motions their newfound friends had so recently taught her.

Tyler, their beloved adopted son, his sixteen years the equivalent of an Earth child at just ten years of age, danced alongside his mother, laughing with joy, high on living. His bare chest was covered in similar symbols, but unlike Rose, whose decoration was meant to last a month, his would wash off the next time he bathed. If it weren't for the denim shorts and blue trainers he wore, he might just look like a native child, lost in the movements of this traditional art.

Yes, the Doctor was awestruck; he who had seen planets born and planets burn; he who had spent so many lonely years saving everyone else, was finally saved.

He walked slowly up the ramp, trailing his long fingers along the length of the railing, reluctant to interrupt the show he was so enjoying. This had been a good adventure, for once not filled with death or destruction, but a celebration of life, of hope. The Doctor sighed, his contentment disturbed by one black spot clouding the lovely day. He recalled it back into his mind, replaying the events of the last few hours…

* * *

"So where are we then Doctor?" Rose asked her husband as he motioned towards the police box doors. 

The Doctor looked up, one eyebrow raised, his cocky smile ready to tease her, "Why don't you go take a look, hmm?" He walked determinedly over to her then, and led her towards the double doors, one hand placed firmly on the small of her back. Rose looked doubtful; their last few trips had been less than perfect. "Go on," he prompted her, it's a surprise." She frowned, crossing both arms above the gentle swell of her pregnancy. "You'll love it," he insisted gently pushing her towards the door a bit more. "I promise." The last two words came out in a kind of sing songy voice, and as they were accompanied by his million watt smile, Rose didn't stand a chance.

"Okay Mr. Impressive," she agreed reluctantly, her own gorgeous lips turned up for the first time in days, "Lets have a go, shall we?" Rose pushed both doors out at once and gasped at the splendor before them. "Oh it's warm!" She exclaimed almost reverently, stepping out into the sunshine and spinning about a bit. She giggled with joy, reminding the Doctor once more of how young she actually was.

"Thought you might appreciate that," He answered happily as he followed her onto the grassy plain, both hands stuffed in to his trouser pockets. He watched his wife bask in the sunlight, her powder blue jumper and black slacks contrasting strangely with the tropical weather. He was so relieved to see her like this. She'd been so cold lately and it had been destroying her mood, and the mood of everyone around her (including the TARDIS, who had been sputtering and shifting funny for weeks). He'd checked and rechecked her vitals, going over every little bone, blood vessel, and hormone, and as usual, everything was fine; better than fine, _perfect_. They'd discovered just a little over six months ago that due to Rose's selfless act of absorbing the Time Vortex , that now little bits of it had actually encoded themselves into her DNA. The result of which, induced a rapid cell regeneration, that had virtually stopped her aging, and induced spontaneous healing whenever she was seriously injured. One side effect of the rapid healing however was the accelerated growth of everything in Rose's body, like her hair and nails. Unknown to either of them at the time, their daughter's first tiny cells had already begun to divide, and following a life threatening injury on Rose's part, had accelerated her growth to just past the first trimester. Since then the baby's growth had been back to normal, which unfortunately for Rose seemed to be the average for a Gallifreyan pregnancy; eighteen months during ideal conditions. Rose it seemed, had another six months to be go.

This fact seemed to be rapidly taking its toll. Human/Gallifreyan pregnancies were as rare as they were complicated, and despite his wife's amazing body, both in form and in function, he just couldn't find the right formula of vitamins to keep her vibrant. She'd been listless, grumpy, and had been sporting what Rose called 'raccoon eyes.' Another side effect of her poor health seemed to be the irrational cold she'd been feeling for weeks. He and Tyler had subjected themselves to almost sweltering heat on the time ship just to keep Rose in minimal comfort. Tyler had taken to wearing nothing but his denim shorts while they were in the TARDIS and the Doctor had been forced to leave his suit jacket hanging on its peg in the wardrobe room. To confound the problem the trio had done nothing but run for their lives since he'd been reunited with Rose six months ago. She was tired, and she was pregnant, and he was doing a terrible job of taking care of her. The Doctor grimaced and ran a restless hand across his brow, _good grief he was rubbish._

"Why the long face?" The Doctor looked up suddenly, startled at being pulled out his musings, and gazed at his wife's lovely concerned eyes.

"I was just thinking," he told her, smiling broadly to dispel any inkling she had of his anxiety, "that we should go and visit the natives." He reached for her hand, drawing Rose's unresisting body against his chest. "Maybe they know what's fun around here."

"Hmm,' she said lightly, wrapping her arms around her husband, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. "Maybe we could just make our own fun."

Desire bubbled up inside the Doctor, threatening to destroy all his good intentions.  
'Hmm,' he groaned, "Someone's feeling better." It had been weeks since she'd approached him with any intimate intentions whatsoever. He drew in a sharp breath when her roving hands delved up under the crisp white shirt to skim low on the skin of his belly.

Rose leaned up, nuzzling the edge of his jaw and simultaneously reaching for the clasp on his trousers. "I don't know what it is," she explained, nibbling her way down her lover's neck, "maybe its this place, maybe it's the warmth, or the sunshine, or something in the air, but, "she looked up into his eyes, love and desire emanating from her in a healthy glow, "I need you. Now."

So much for good intentions. The Doctor let every rational thought in his head just rush out and disappear as his lips converged on his wife's. She moaned into him, attacking the buttons on his shirt while simultaneously exploring his mouth with her tongue. The Doctor pushed her hands away, frantically removing his own shirt before pulling her jumper up over her head and flinging it to some unknown destination. The golden pendant she wore, the seal of Rassilon proclaiming her as his wife, reflected the sun's rays for a moment as it bounced against her skin. He lowered her into the tall grass, taking special care to protect their unborn child; not caring if they were out in open, not even thinking about the fact that their son could come out of the TARDIS at any minute and find them. If Rose wanted sunlight, The Doctor was going to give her _sunlight_.

He blazed a trail of kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, and down the center of her chest to the gentle swell of her stomach. He lingered there, placing his hands on either side of her, his long fingers encasing, surrounding the child within. "I love you." He whispered reverently, not even knowing himself if he was addressing the life within or without; probably both. "I love you."

"Doctor," His wife's pleading voice barely registered inside his passion filled brain.

"Hmm," he answered thoughtlessly, all the while continuing his sensual assault.

"Doctor!" The frantic cry finally snapped him to attention, the realization finally dawning that perhaps something was wrong.

"What?" he asked quickly, a slight annoyance coloring the words.

Rose flashed him a cheeky smile, her arms suddenly moving to conceal her pink cotton bra, "the natives don't seem to like our brand of fun."

The Doctor rolled over, his whole body coming to rest on the ground beside his wife. Ten huge muscular men stood in a circle around them, their skin bronzed, their garments consisting only of very brief loincloths. Each had a very sharp looking spear pointed directly at the couple. "Aww," the Doctor whined, throwing his hands up and flopping his head down onto the ground, "Did you have to?"

* * *

Rose smiled nervously at the troop of men standing menacingly above them and looked around frantically for her blue jumper. "So do you think public indecency is a crime on this planet?" she asked her husband through clenched teeth. 

"Well," The Doctor answered, his own teeth clenched into a comical smile, "judging from their own garments I'd guess that it isn't; at least for the men."

Rose snorted indelicately, "Fat lot of good that does me."

"Right." The Doctor put his palms up in the universal 'please don't kill me, I'm unarmed' sign and slowly started to rise. "Hello fellas," he greeted them jovially, "sorry to bother you. The wife and I are just on bit of holiday really. We'll be going now." The men snorted distrustingly, but didn't make any more threatening movements. Taking this as a sign of good faith he leaned down to help Rose up. "Didn't happen to see a blue jumper lying around here someplace? No? Well then, see you." The couple inched away then, Rose still holding one arm over her breasts, the Doctor pulling her gently with the other.

The biggest of the warriors quickly reached out a hand to grab Rose's upper arm, abruptly stopping their retreat. Her husband's smile disappeared, all angles on his lovely face turned down, the light in his soft brown eyes grown stormy, "You really might want to rethink that." His voice was gruff, barely concealing the instant rage the warrior's unthinking gesture had created.

Unmoved by the Doctor's threat, the warrior moved his other hand to caress the swell of Rose's belly. She gasped, surprised by both the gentleness of his touch, and the sudden movement of the child within her. "Wait," she cautioned her husband quickly, releasing his hand to lay it against his chest, stopping him from charging, "He isn't hurting me." The Doctor looked as if he'd pounce at any minute, but he backed down a bit for now.

The warrior continued his caressing, a reverent smile transforming the massive man into someone much more approachable. "Thank the Goddess," he whispered, kneeling before her, his arm outstretched to keep in contact with her skin. "All hail the chosen one!" Simultaneously, all nine of the remaining warriors knelt down in a circle around Rose, their chants echoed across the plain.

"All hail the chosen one!"

* * *

Tyler sat perched on the lone bench inside the console room and thumbed through one of Rose's fashion magazines. His mum and dad had disappeared about twenty minutes ago, and to be honest he was actually quite relieved that they'd left him behind for a little while. They needed some time together and he needed some peace and quiet. The two of them had been treading on pins and needles lately, and while the Doctor could block his mind from others, Rose didn't have that skill. Tyler had trouble shutting out the emotions of others in normal circumstances, due to his incredibly powerful psychic empathy, and Rose's moodiness lately was enough to drive him mad. He'd been careful to never let it show though; she didn't need one more thing to upset her. His mum didn't know it, but the baby could tell when she was upset too; his sister had been a bit scared these last few weeks. 

Tyler cocked his head to the side as he stared at the glossy image of a particularly attractive supermodel. Her long red hair reminded him of that girl he'd met on one of their last adventures; _Kissarna_. Tyler sighed; she'd been the young daughter of the planet's highest ranking government official; out of reach, out of touch, and beautiful. Didn't matter now though, he smiled sadly, flipping the page to the 'fashion do's and don'ts' page, he wasn't going to see her again anyway. The TARDIS never really made return trips.

"Hey Tyler?" The boy closed the magazine quickly upon hearing his father's voice just outside, crinkling its glossy pages in his haste. He looked around frantically for a hiding spot, before simply lifting up for a second to sit on it. The TARDIS door creaked open a split second later and the Doctor's jovial face poked in. "You ready to go?"

"Um Yeah," Tyler's face was a perfect reflection of innocence. "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

"As a matter of fact," his father answered, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, "It seems that we've landed on a fairly primitive planet whose inhabitance worship a benevolent fertility goddess."

Tyler raised an eyebrow at this information. "Okay?"

"So every ten years," The Doctor continued, "They honor the pregnant woman in the tribe, as their fertileness directly reflects the tribe's favor with the goddess. So the problem this time seems to be that nobody's pregnant right now. Chief Oonooka, nice man once you get used to his massive size, says it's the first time this has happened in four hundred years. They think Rose has been sent by the goddess as a sign that she hasn't found fault with them." He smiled triumphantly, "they want to honor her."

Tyler stared at his father anxiously, the situation too good to be true. "You sure they don't want to sacrifice her to said goddess?"

"One-hundred percent," he assured his son, "well, ninety-nine at least." Tyler had to chuckle at that one. "I remembered to check this time," he assured him, "No sacrifices of any sentient life at this ritual. So unless you can die from too much pampering, and she's a woman so you can wipe that smirk off your face, then everyone is going to have a great time."

Tyler sighed and slumped his shoulders, causing the Doctor to mimic the gesture in disappointment. "Come on son," he pleaded, stepping fully into the console room. "It'll be fun. How often to we have a day where get to," he held up a hand and counted out one finger at a time, "save the day, make your mum extraordinarily happy, hang out with a bunch of huge warriors, dance around a ceremonial fire, and do it all without having to run for our lives?"

The boy giggled, once again looking like the child he was, and hopped up from his place on the bench. "Okay, okay," he answered breathlessly, "I'm coming." He made his way across the room, plucked his glasses from the console to tuck in a pocket, and eased past the Doctor. He stopped abruptly when his father's heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The magazine made a crinkling sound as The Doctor peeled it off his jeans.

"Nice." His father said simply, eyeing the ginger supermodel. "But next time," he added, smiling with masculine pride, "don't sit on a magazine you've just been holding with sweaty hands."

Tyler's freckles almost got lost beneath the deep blush, "right."

* * *

The Doctor leaned against an outside support pole for one of the many tents in the village and watched his son learn the tribal dances with the other children near the bonfire across the field. He was glad that Tyler had brought his glasses, as night had fallen early in this place. He didn't want to see these people's reaction to a boy who's eyes project purple light in the dark. 

He'd checked on Rose in a nearby tent about twenty minutes ago. The woman of the tribe had been simultaneously braiding wooden beads into her hair, painting semi-permanent protection runes on her belly, and massaging her feet. The Doctor wasn't entirely sure she'd noticed his presence at all. He thumbed the Gallifrayan writing on the platnum ring he wore on his left hand and smiled. He'd done good with this trip.

The Doctor sipped his warm drink contentedly and contemplated the unique taste, rolling it around in his mouth. It was something like tea he supposed, although there was a certain tartness to it, fruit perhaps? He never got the chance to ponder further however, because a very large, very strong hand clamped down over his shoulder.

"Oh." The Doctor exclaimed happily when he recognized Chief Oonooka. "Hello big fella. What can I do for you?" The chief's body was almost completely covered in those same scrolling tribal patterns that were slowly being painted on everyone in the camp.

"It is time for you to visit the shaman," he said simply, gesturing towards the tent's entrance.

"Oh yeah," The Doctor asked, pulling lightly on one ear. "Is this where I find out my part in the ceremony?"

"Nope," he said, his deep voice resonating with humor. "It's time for your paint."

"Oh well," the Doctor held out his hands, desperate to come up with an excuse. "I'm not really into bodily expression," he squeaked out, "A bit modest this time around don't you know."

The Chief placed his massive hand on the back of the Doctor's neck and applied a light pressure, making it clear he could snap the bone if he so chose. "To deny the runes is to dishonor the shaman, the Goddess, and your woman, who has found favor with the Goddess."

"Yeah, Okay," The Doctor managed to choke out as the warrior led him into the tent by his neck, "I could use a little decoration." He was unceremoniously stripped of his dress shirt and vest, and plunked down on a tiny stool by a small fire. There was a gently sloping, cushioned table in front of him and he leaned against it, exposing his back to the elderly man behind him.

The first touch of the brush was cool, and the Doctor flinched a little before stilling purposely under the watchful gaze of the chief. He looked up to watch the shaman's movements through the reflecting glass hanging from the roof. He supposed it was placed there for just this reason. The gray haired man painted detailed strokes with a long handled brush, starting directly between his shoulder blades. He made interlocking concentric circles, using the Doctor's natural mole as midpoint. Never one to remain silent The Doctor attempted to strike up a conversation. "So," he said, jovially, "Had this job long?"

The old man continued to paint, his face down in concentration, his long gray hair concealing most of his features. "I have been a shaman since birth. It is not a choice, "he told the Doctor, his voice soft and full of wisdom, "But a destiny. Something I think you understand quite well."

The Doctor frowned, thinking about everything he'd been though, everything his family had been through to get to this point, "Maybe."

"Your family is happy here." The man continued, ignoring the Doctor's obvious discomfort. "You're woman is healthier than she has been for weeks, your son is playing with children his own age, and you…"

"Don't belong here," the Doctor interrupted him, unwilling to take this conversation to its obvious conclusion.

"But you could," the shaman continued, starting to color in some of the circles, "We would welcome you with open arms. You and your family are small and pale but you are obviously touched by the Goddess and," he continued seriously, "no man can be a nomad forever. Even my people, who were travelers for many eons, had to learn to stop, to stay."

The Doctor smiled mirthlessly, "my home is the open road as they say," he told him, his attempted at levity falling a bit short.

The wise man had finished his central design and was starting to make broad strokes over towards the Doctor's shoulder blades, and down his spine. "I knew you would refuse the offer," the old man admitted, adding little flourishing squiggles, "but I felt compelled to ask anyway. You are blessed by the Goddess, and she blesses those who take care of her own."

The Doctor did smile then, a genuine stretching of the lips that made it all the way to his soft brown eyes. "I have my own goddess," he told the shaman, once more fingering the ancient letters on his wedding band, "and she most certainly blesses me."

The old man chuckled, a strange sound coming from such a wise man. "You speak of your woman," he said, reaching for a cup of clear liquid. "She is blessed by more than just our Goddess," he paused as if considering something weighty, "And the child within her is blessed by everything."

The Doctor stared at this mysterious man's reflection in the hanging glass as those words spun around in his mind. "You saw all that did you?" He asked him tentatively, unsure of the answer he wanted, "just now as you were painting my back?"

The gray haired man spread the clear jell-like substance over the intricate design. "I see lots of things," he said ominously, looking up from his completed task. The Doctor's eyes grew wide at seeing the shaman's face for the first time. The old man's eyes were clouded over with thick cataracts, the lids covering them not even bothering to open all the way. This man was blind.

"I've given you the symbol of protector," he said, "and the coating will make it last for at least one full cycle of the moon. You're mate has had the same treatment, but your son's should wash off with his next bathing."

"Thank you." The Doctor sat dumfounded, for once at a loss for words.

"Know this," he continued, "I do not choose the symbols to paint, the Goddess chooses them for me. You are The Protector; I felt it as soon as you entered this world and I will feel your leaving. Your woman is very very special, and the life she carries has a destiny; one that cannot be measured by tired old men who paint pictures. The boy can help, but be wary. Something carries on the wind."

* * *

The Doctor was startled back into the present when the console room was abruptly filled with a loud crash. He looked up to see Tyler, sprawled on the floor, obviously having just twisted his own feet together in the dance. He laughed hysterically, one arm wrapped around his stomach in joyful pain at his own clumsiness. Rose, having quickly determined that he wasn't hurt, shared in his mirth. 

The Doctor pushed all negative thoughts away. There was nothing to the old wise man's tale. Everything was fine. He'd know it if something was coming; he always did. He strode forward into the room, ignoring the slight itching between his shoulder blades.

"Okay Puppy," The Doctor called out, the old nickname causing his son to groan. "It has been a glorious day for time traveling, but its time for bed. The boy looked as if he was going to protest for a moment but then thought better of it. He jumped up to tightly embrace his father. "Night dad."

"Oh your getting heavy!" The Doctor exclaimed as he lifted his son off the ground for a second. He placed him back on his feet with an exaggerated sigh. "Go kiss your mum goodnight."

Tyler exchanged hugs and kisses with Rose who despite having just met the boy six months ago, was as loving as if she'd raised him from infancy like his father. She was frustrated sometimes with how to act or what to say, but her inherent compassion didn't usually lead her astray. For the millionth time since he'd gotten her back he wondered at the miracle of her existence, and that of his whole family.

Tyler broke away from Rose and laid his palm against her stomach in their nightly ritual. He closed his eyes for a second, his freckled cheeks pinching up in soft smile, "Goodnight baby," he whispered. Rose laid a hand on his head for a moment, ruffling the unruly chestnut strands before gently pushing him towards the door. His rhythmic footsteps echoed down the hall.

The Doctor called after him, having almost forgotten the symbols painted all over Tyler's chest. "Shower first, then sleep!"

Tyler's voice was faint, but the his begrudging frustration could be heard nonetheless "Yes sir."

Rose sighed, rubbing a hand over the delicate runes painted all over the swell of her belly. "He always gets her wound up," she told The Doctor as he enfolded her into his arms. "I know he needs to feel her, touch her mind, let her know he's part of the family, but it gets her so excited that she doesn't sleep when _I_ want to."

The Doctor moved his hand down over his daughter, the long fingers rounded, as if palming a basketball. He marveled at her movements for a moment, before closing his eyes and concentrating. The child within Rose's womb instantly quieted. Rose leaned into her husband, suddenly exhausted from the day's activities. "How is it that you can do that?" she asked him, chuckling softly. "Do you say something to her, tell her to save gymnastics for a bit later, warn her to stop punching mummy?"

The Doctor held his wife closer, rocking them gently back and fourth. "I sing." He answered, "I sing her an ancient lullaby that she instinctively recognizes and it calms her down."

Rose smiled against the cotton of his shirt, "that's lovely," she yawned as his gentle movements soothed her as easily as any lullaby. "Will you sing it for me sometime?"

The Doctor rubbed his chin against her hair, feeling her tiny braids get caught in the day old stubble there. "Yeah," he answered noncommittally, "sometime;" Sometime when she wasn't dead on her feet. The old concern flared up inside him again. She'd had a tiny reprieve, but was far from energetic. He flinched slightly, the design under his shirt starting to burn. What was in that ink? Rose seemed perfectly fine on that score. He pushed the thought aside, maybe he just needed a shower like Tyler.

"Time for bed for us too." He told his wife, leading her towards the hall, we'll start a new adventure tomorrow." The Doctor frowned, for some reason the thought of starting a new day allowed a trickle of unease into his gut.

"Okay," Rose answered, the word muffled by a huge yawn. "Tomorrow's good."

The Doctor suddenly turned, causing Rose to wobble for a second from losing his support. The symbol on his back ached in earnest now, the twinge in his gut a flaming into a new intensity. His gaze scanned the room, his fingers raked through his russet hair, disheveling it. Something niggled in the back of his skull, something was out of place. Both he and Rose nearly jumped out of their skin as the telephone on the console began to ring, its mechanical bell as mismatched as the rest of ship.

"Doctor?" Rose had moved the few feet to stand by his side, gently laying her hand on his arm. "Who'd be phoning us? Nobody has this number?" she got a little agitated. "And even if someone did, who'd have the technology to reach us here?"

The Doctor's mind raced as he slowly approached the ringing little bit of low tech incorporated into the rest of the ship's mismatched parts. Something was wrong, Something was out there, Something was waiting.

Rose's voice grew a bit frantic, his silence disturbing her. "Doctor?"

He reached the phone and placed his hand upon the receiver, ready to lift it from its cradle should it dare to ring again. It did. The Doctor gripped it in his suddenly sweaty palm, the throbbing in his back and the twinge in his gut intensifying with the motion. He turned to face Rose; watched, as her beautiful face turned into a mask of fearful anxiety, and moved to place the phone against his ear.

"Something's coming."


	2. Call For Help

_AN: Thank you so much to my Lovely Beta __Vincelia Valentine__, who was brave enough to be my first beta. round of applause Also, I'm sorry to everyone who still remembers this story for how very long it took me to update. Real life sort of got in the way for a while, but hopefully I'll be able to write more in the future. That being said, I hope you like it. As mentioned in the previous chapter, this one isn't as long as it was._

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Call For Help**

"Something's coming."

Rose stood frozen for a moment, letting her husband's ominous words echo through her mind, as something poisonous started churning in her gut. The ache intensified when her daughter decided to wake up and continue her usual gymnastics inside her womb.

"Who is this?" The Doctor's face scrunched up in an impressive display of confusion as he leaned in closer to the receiver and used a finger to pinch his other ear closed. "What do you want?" He paused for a second, his agitation obviously growing. "How did you get this number?"

Rose strode across the room, her white, diaphanous skirts billowing out around her as she approached her husband, all patience suddenly lost. "What!?" The Doctor stood immobile for a moment, his arm outstretched towards the phone that his wife had just so rudely snatched out of his hand. "What!?"

Rose ignored his protests as she placed it against her own ear and motioned towards the TARDIS console. "See if you can track the signal," she called to him; catching a glimpse of his startled expression, before turning all of her attention to the strange, static filled sounds coming from the receiver.

"Please…" another unintelligible, rumble of static, "taken…" more static. The signal was so weak she couldn't determine anything descriptive about the caller; not sex, nor age, nor accent. Rose pressed the phone closer to her ear just as The Doctor had done earlier and tried to make out as much of the message as possible. She only managed to understand three more words, but they chilled her to the bone, "trapped…help us."

Rose looked up, wide-eyed, at her husband, who was frantically circling the console, pushing buttons and turning levers. "Try to keep them on the phone," he called out. "I've almost got a lock on it."

"Can you hear me?" She asked, raising her voice in an attempt to get through, "Where are you?" Rose took a deep breath when all she heard in reply was white noise. "Please," she tried again, "we can help you, but you need to tell us where you are." Rose bit her bottom lip in instant despair as the signal cut off, leaving her with nothing but the mournful dirge of the dial tone. "I've lost them," she told The Doctor dejectedly as she placed the device back in its cradle above the console.

"Well," The Doctor said with enthusiasm as he raced around to the display screen, "That's perfectly alright Love, because I…," he drew the word out triumphantly as he tapped the screen, "…haven't." Placing his reading glasses securely on the bridge of his nose, the Doctor then proceeded to type something into the keypad; his fingers a blur as they worked their usual technological magic. Rose walked around to join him, placing her palm against the center of his back as she leaned in to look at the screen. He winced as her hand made contact with the brown fabric and she pulled back, concern immediately shadowing her expression.

"Sorry," he said, straightening up a bit and flashing her a sheepish grin, "it's nothing."

Not believing that for a second, Rose reached out a hand to inspect him further. "Don't say that…"

"Rose," The Doctor's voice was slightly frantic and he stopped her hand in mid reach, "fading signal, desperate cry for help; it's a bit more important that my little aches and pains." Noticing her frown he sighed and interlaced his fingers with hers. "We'll talk about it later, alright?"

Rose nodded, accepting that answer for now. "What did you find out?" She asked him, gesturing to the geometric patterns flickering on the screen. "Who was it?"

"I'm not sure," he replied; pushing the tip of his tongue up against the edge of his top teeth, "but the TARDIS should be able to work out where the call came from."

She squinted at the intelligible writing, frustrated once again that the TARDIS absolutely refused to translate Gallifreyan. "Well how long is that gonna take?"

"About twelve hours."

Rose let her jaw drop. "Fat lot of good that does whoever's crying for help!"

"Oi!" The Doctor turned to his wife. "Time machine remember? As long as we don't get ourselves entwined in their timeline we can arrive just after the message was sent. Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck distractedly, "within a reasonable margin for error."

"Right." Rose didn't look convinced.

"Oh ye of little faith," he chided her, pointing the finger at her skepticism, "you just watch…" He trailed off as the images on the screen started flickering around like mad. "Oh yes!"

Rose took one look at the excitement running through her husband and flashed him a cheeky grin, "Well that was a fast twelve hours."

The Doctor didn't look phased, "the process just went a bit faster than I'd first anticipated."

Rose just smiled wider, "a _bit_ yeah."

"Now hold on," he said, confusion once again coloring his words. He pushed up his glasses with a forefinger and squinting down at the display, "The TARDIS recognizes the technology that was used to send the signal."

"So, that's good then right," wasn't that the point of this little exercise? "We can find them sooner." Rose rubbed a palm in little circles against the small of her back, massaging the tired muscles there. Their daughter churned in her womb, reminding her of the sleepless night ahead. "Might as well save a world tonight, not gonna get much rest anyway." Even if the Doctor could quiet the baby again, Rose was just too wound up.

"The TARDIS still needs a few hours to calculate the exact time of the call," he said, turning to face her completely, "and you aren't going anywhere until you've had some rest." Rose scowled but the Doctor continued. "You're no help to me, or to whoever was on that phone, if you're dead on your feet."

"I'll go to bed," she said suggestively, reaching out to caress his beloved face, "if you come with me." Rose flashed him a cheeky grin, an obvious ploy to get what she wanted, but the request was genuinely heartfelt. Rose only got the pleasure of truly sleeping with her husband every once in a while; his biology only requiring a fraction of the sleep that hers did.

"Hmm," he groaned softly, turning his face into her touch and gently kissing the soft skin of her palm. "I just might do that."

Rose giggled, delighted when his tongue darted out to flick against her skin. "Shall we make the most of these next few hours then Sir Doctor?"

"Absolutely Dame Rose," he agreed, seducing her with a heavy lidded gaze. "But first," He said suddenly, all traces of desire instantly gone from his voice, "I have a certain young man I need to question."

Rose didn't miss a beat, used to her husband abruptly changing the subject. "But why," she asked, glancing towards the interior door, "he's gone to bed; like we should being doing right now."

The Doctor fished a black mobile phone out of his left trouser pocket and held it up for her inspection. "The TARDIS," he explained, waving the little bit of plastic and metal around, "didn't just identify the source of the signal, she _recognized_ it. There are only three devices in the whole universe that send out a signal like the one we just received. This is one of them," he said before crossing the room to search through a denim jacket that Rose had thrown over the railing. He pulled out her pink mobile and waved it around. "This is the second."

Rose raised an eyebrow as the pieces of the puzzle finally came together. "Oh."

The Doctor frowned and cocked his head in the direction that their son had run down not too long ago, "exactly."

* * *

Tyler was sitting up, cross-legged, in the center of his bed when The Doctor quietly peeked his head in just inside the door. "You," he said chidingly, "are supposed to be asleep." He sauntered into the room then, hands in his trouser pockets as he approached the edge of the mattress. He peered down at the boy over the edge of his glasses, which had slid down towards the end of his nose. "What are you doing up?"

Tyler shrugged nervously and looked away, the perfect example of an evasive youth, "mum was scared about something."

The Doctor took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing wearily at this revelation. "Tyler," he said softly, pulling over a small wooden chair to sit alongside the bed, "you need to learn to block out other people's thoughts and emotions. You can't just keep rooting around in someone else's mind like that; it's an invasion of privacy and isn't healthy for you."

"I know." The voice was small and the boy on the bed still refused to meet his father's eyes.

"I've taught you how to block it out Tyler and we've been meditating together to help you increase your skill."

"I know."

Tyler's tone was so dejected that The Doctor felt a ball of guilt well up inside his chest, adding to the apprehension he still felt about their upcoming mission. He'd been so distracted lately that he hadn't noticed his son growing distant until it was too late. "You know you can tell me anything." The Doctor offered an affectionate smile but Tyler missed it, his gaze locked on the apparently fascinating duvet. "We used to talk."

"I know."

"Although," the Doctor continued, "I could talk for both of us you know. You're mum's always saying how I've got a gob the size a solar system."

Tyler snorted, "Well, you do."

"Which solar system do you think she means by that hmm?" The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck as if deeply concerned, "The Novarian system only has two planets, four moons, and a red dwarf star; not a very impressive comparison when demonstrating the awesomeness that is my talent of allocution."

Tyler's response was laced with sarcasm," You're upset because mum's insult wasn't clear enough?"

The Doctor took a deep breath, pleased to see that Tyler's gaze, while still guarded, was now fixed on him. "That's right Tyler," he continued, "One has to be clear on these things so as not to bruise feelings. You see, the Novalians, the Novarians' nearest neighbor by the way, boast a binary star system with twenty six planets; ten of which would make the earth look like a small glass Christmas bulb. They've also got one hundred and eight moons, sixty thousand orbiting meteors, eleven hundred thousand amusement parks, fifteen hundred thousand water parks, (not the best mind you it's rather cold in the Novalian system), five hundred million pubs, and about a billion cinemas."

Tyler gaped incredulously at his father, "Does this story have a point?"

"You see Tyler," The Doctor said confidently, as if this speech had made any sense whatsoever, "If someone says to you, 'you've got a Novarian gob,' that's nothing to sneeze at. But if someone says, 'Oi mate, you've got a mouth the size of the Novalian system,' well then," The Doctor pointed at his son, a look of sheer pride encompassing his face, "that would be impressive." The Doctor grin faded with his son's total lack of response, "and is any of this cheering you up at all?" Tyler just stared. "No? Not even the smallest bit?"

"I'm not a kid anymore Dad," Tyler's small face belittled the words, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes vouched for them. "You can't make me forget about anything with a bit of a laugh."

The Doctor frowned, wishing desperately that he could just take his child into his arms and hug all the pain away; make it all better with a kiss just like he used to. Instead he offered Tyler a narrow smile, "I know."

"Mum's upset about something, again." He slapped his palms down on the duvet in exasperation, "She was happy all day, _we_ were happy all day and now it's all ruined." The boy's voice cracked a little with his next words, "what happened?"

"Tyler, she's pregnant," The Doctor reached out to take his son's hand, letting out a long suffering sigh when the boy flinched away, "There are enough hormones running through her system to bring a cyberman to tears and on top of that she's carrying a child her physiology isn't prepared to carry. Her back hurts constantly, she's tired, she's cranky, she's stressed, and she doesn't feel well." Tyler looked even closer to tears so the Doctor laid a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the boy's silent protest, "but she's also going to be fine."

"How can you be sure?" Tyler sniffed and rubbed frantically at his nose.

"Because she's the only one in the universe married to me," he said cockily, "and I'm not going to let anything bad happen to her. Over the next few months it's going to be easy to upset her Tyler, that's normal," The Doctor took a deep breath, "difficult, but normal."

Tyler just looked down to stare at the duvet again, his freckled face growing pink with the effort not to show any emotion.

"What's this all about?" The Doctor asked, finally attempting to get the heart of the matter, "Rose has been sick since shortly after she came back to us and we both know that the likelihood us of losing her is very slim considering her newfound regenerative abilities, so what's gotten you so worried all of a sudden? And what, if anything, does it have to do with your missing mobile phone?"

Tyler looked up, once again giving his father full view of his face, but this time his carefully held together composure had cracked a little. His glorious purple eyes were red rimmed and just a bit too bright. "It's getting worse Dad," the words were tiny, almost inaudible, and noticeably unsteady. "I can't control it anymore." Tyler blinked and the tears he'd been holding so determinedly in check spilled over onto his freckled cheeks.

The Doctor felt his hearts wrench; his boy had been hurting for quite some time and he hadn't even realized it. Relying on instinct and pure love, the Doctor quickly moved onto the bed, easing himself into a sitting position beside his son. Gently wrapping an arm around the trembling shoulders, he pulled him into a comforting embrace. "Okay," he said, leaning down to kiss Tyler's chestnut hair, "start from the beginning."


	3. The Mind of a Child

_**A/N: This chapter is very very heavy on the OC. In fact, Rose only makes a couple of very brief cameo appearances. Please bear with me. This is the ONLY chapter of its kind and it was necessary to advance the plot. I promise that the next chapter will be chock full of Doctor/Rose fluffyness, especially since they are going to be separated for a little while after that. (as my summary states) **_

* * *

****

**Chapter 3**

**The Mind of a Child **

"Start from the beginning."

Tyler sniffled against his father's shirt, letting himself believe for just a second that this would make everything alright. "You know that my empathy has been getting stronger," he began, his voice barely trembling at all. "It started right before I fetched Mum back from the parallel Earth, but since she got here its been ten times as strong and getting stronger."

"Describe it to me Tyler," The Doctor gently instructed, "tell me exactly what it feels like."

"Like I'm not myself anymore," he said quietly, "like I'm just a vessel for what everyone else is feeling. It doesn't happen all the time," he admitted, "you've taught me to block out a lot of it. But I can't keep it up forever and as soon as I get tired, or let my guard down it hits me again; pounding me until I let it in, let it take over."

The Doctor held his son more tightly. His voice was soft and patient at he replied, "you speak as if you were under attack Tyler. We just need to work together to figure this out."

Tyler continued as if his father had never spoken, "It happens the most with Mum; in fact sometimes I can even feel her physical pain too. My lower back has been hurting for the last few weeks, did you know that? I'm a sixteen year old male and I'm apparently sharing my adoptive mother's pregnancy. Is this normal?" he asked, his voice getting a bit frantic, "I mean, have you ever known anyone else like me, anywhere? Do you even know how much stronger this is going to get?"

The Doctor pulled away from his son for a moment in order to meet his gaze. "No," he said gravely, "but I _will_ find out. Is there anyone else this happens with," he asked, "any other strange psychic reactions other than the link you've developed with Rose?"

"I can feel the baby too," Tyler admitted, "and not just when I touch mum's belly, although that amplifies it. She's so little that I didn't think that was possible."

"It's unusual, but not entirely unheard of considering how strong your abilities have grown. Anything else?"

"Well," Tyler looked away, his ears growing a bit pink with embarrassment," There was one other thing, but it wasn't the same."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "how do you mean?"

Tyler took a deep fortifying breath," you wanted to know what happened to my mobile."

His father blinked at the abrupt change in subject. "Is there a connection here I'm missing?"

"She was sad."

The Doctor placed a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed lightly, "Tyler, son, you've got to give me more to go on than that."

Tyler squirmed a little, he couldn't believe how difficult it was to talk to his dad about this, they'd always been so close but now… "Kissarna…"

"The girl from Neo Portus," The Doctor's face was all scrunched up in disbelief. "What does she have to do with any of this?"

Tyler felt himself turn a deep shade of purple-red all the way from the tips of his toes to the edge of his hairline. "I sort of…well kind of…she…and we were leaving…so I wanted to keep in touch…kinda."

"So you gave her your phone?" Tyler flinched at the level his father raised his voice to, "why would you do something like that? We have to be so careful, especially now with the baby on the way. In fact the only reason I can think of for doing something so completely irrational would be if you fancied the girl, and that's just…oh!" Tyler bit his bottom lip, wishing more than anything that he could climb under a rock and not be seen until he reached maturity on his thirtieth birthday. "Okay," his father said, wearing a mortifyingly smug grin, "I can see how you might feel that way. She's a pretty girl. Oh," he lit up, "and ginger, good choice."

"Dad," Tyler cut The Doctor off before the conversation could digress even further, "it's not like that," his father raised an eyebrow, "well not entirely. You see, when I was little everyone's mind was quiet. They just had this beautiful gentle humming; an impulse telling me who was sad, or happy, or scared."

"But now?"

"Now you're the only one who feels like that, except Kissarna." Tyler sighed, relieved, despite the embarrassment, to finally be getting this off his shoulders. "She was so very lonely Dad," he said, "and sad. But instead of her feelings screaming at me like most people, they felt like a warm breeze. Her mind was so quiet I could filter out the empathy and reach the telepathy underneath. I picked out whole sentences that she was thinking and I knew it was wrong, but I just wanted to know everything about her. I could relax with her, and have fun, and be myself for a little while."

"Tyler," his father's voice was tired, and laced with despair, "why didn't you tell me? That little girl might hold a clue as to what's been happening to you."

"You've had so much else on your mind." He admitted, dreading how guilty this was going to make his dad. "Mum's been sick like you said, and you've got your hands full just trying to keep her happy. I just didn't want to add to it."

The Doctor embraced his son, enfolding him in strength, "I will always worry about you Tyler," he said affectionately, "it sort of goes with the job, but it will be worse if you keep things from your mother and I."

Tyler suddenly felt ill. "No," he pleaded, shaking his head, "You can't tell her. She'll be so upset if she knows she's hurting me. It's not her fault. It will ruin everything…"

"Shhh," The Doctor soothed, reaching up to gently wipe away a lone tear that had leaked out from one of Tyler's brilliant purple eyes. "I have to tell her something," he admitted, "but I promise to soften the blow as much as possible. God knows you're right in saying she doesn't need something else to worry about."

Tyler made a noise that was half laugh and half sob, before rudely wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Thanks."

The Doctor closed his eyes for a second as if struggling with some weighty decision. "You know there's only one way for me to find out what's wrong," he said gruffly, his gaze now fully locked on Tyler, "don't you son?"

Tyler swallowed convulsively. He trusted his father completely; with the life they led there was really no other option, but there would be no turning back from this act. Once he let The Doctor into his mind he'd know for certain what was wrong, he'd know exactly how much deeper his personal rabbit hole was; how much farther he'd yet to fall into madness. But what was the alternative? He couldn't go on like this for much longer without some kind of relief. Maybe his father could defeat this kind of monster too. Tyler squared his shoulder's, decision made. "I'm ready."

* * *

The Doctor felt Tyler's whole body sag in relief the moment his fingertips made contact with the boy's temples. Taking control of the his son's psychic barriers had been a simple task once he got inside; finding out what was making them so very necessary was a different story entirely.

"Alright Tyler," he said, easing his way past the first layer of consciousness, "just relax and let me in. I promise I won't look at anything I don't have to." It was slow going; The Doctor had to scan every layer of his son's brain, searching carefully for any anomalies. At first everything seemed perfectly normal, at least for an adolescent Domrandian as brilliant as Tyler. "You certainly don't lack any brain power," he remarked smugly.

Tyler chuckled, but kept his eyes firmly closed. "You seem awfully proud of that fact."

The Doctor cocked a half smile. "Well you _are_ my son, which means I get to take credit for at least some of it."

"I shouldn't have to remind you, of all people, that I'm adopted."

"Oi," The Doctor chided him, "it rubs off you know. Proximity counts for something."

"I…"

The Doctor abruptly cut him off, "Wait!" Could that possibly be the answer? "Tyler, your species evolved to survive in almost total darkness; that's why you developed those gorgeous bioluminescent eyes. But it's also the reason you've got such strong abilities in empathy and telepathy."

"Dad," Tyler's voice was long suffering, "tell me something I don't know."

"So if you'd been allowed to grow up on your home planet you would have constantly been surrounded by a low level telepathic field. Your parents would have fed it to you like milk from a mother's breast."

"Ew, Dad!"

"But instead you've been here with me?" The Doctor's voice dropped an octave, "Think Tyler, what have you been in contact with constantly for sixteen years? What telepathic field has been feeding you?"

Tyler's eyes opened wide with shock, "The TARDIS."

"The TARDIS," he confirmed, looking deeper into his son's mind. "You've got a spiderweb of connections in here. Which means that you've been making family threads just like you would have if we were Domrandians too. The one that connects you to me snapped into place sixteen years ago, the first time I held you in my arms. It's the reason I couldn't let you go. I've always known it was there, in fact it wouldn't have attached in the first place if I hadn't allowed it, but I never expected you to grow any more."

Tyler seemed nervous, "well how many more are there?"

"Well you've got one attached to Rose, that's why you feel such a strong connection with her. I can control the link I have with you, but Rose doesn't know how. There's also one connected to your sister, which is why you can feel her even now while she's not fully developed. But the strongest link you've got in here Tyler leads directly to the TARDIS, which is why you've grown so powerful."

"How is that possible?"

"She sees you as family Tyler," The Doctor answered, "she's connected to me and therefore extends that connection to you via our family link. The difference though, is that you're not a Time Lord. You don't just live in the telepathic field, you feed off it."

"So it's changing me?" Tyler's whole body started to shake a bit as panic threatened to take over, "but why now; why all of a sudden is it getting so strong? I've lived here my whole life and nothing like this has ever happened before."

The Doctor moved his thumb gently along his son's cheekbone, careful not to displace their telepathic link while still offering some comfort. "I'm not sure son," he said calmly, "I have to look a bit deeper for that. Are you going to be okay?"

Tyler's nod was so slight The Doctor might have missed if he hadn't been holding his son's head at the time. He searched deeper inside the boy's mind, following the intricate pathways. If he used the boy's connection with the TARDIS, he could amplify the ones linking him to everyone else. He could see Rose getting ready for bed; brushing her shoulder length blond hair in front of their bathroom mirror. He could see his wife's reflection in the glass as if it were his own and feel the silky locks sliding through her fingers. The Doctor sighed wearily when he realized that Tyler had been right, her back really did hurt.

Wait, what was this? Nestled behind the strong psychic bonds that Tyler had to both himself and Rose was another, less obtrusive connecting line. The Doctor probed it gently, once again using Tyler's link with the TARDIS to amplify the effect. The world went white for a second, a blinding light drowning out all vision, sound, and feeling. The Doctor had the distinct feeling of being sucked right out of his body for a second.

"Whoa." The Doctor pulled back from his son abruptly, clutching the boy's shoulders to steady him. "What was that?"

Tyler took a few ragged breaths, his whole body shaking lightly, "I don't know," he said, panting a bit, "It didn't hurt; it was just really intense, bit of a rush really."

The Doctor frowned as he weighed the risks of continuing against the need to understand what had just happened, "I think we're really on to something here," he finally said, "do you think we can try it again?"

Tyler broke into a huge grin, "absolutely."

Once again The Doctor placed his fingertips against Tyler's temples and probed deeply. He circled the mysterious thread a few times, easing himself closer and closer to it, before finally making contact. Both father and son gasped aloud as the light embraced them, and the world fell away.

* * *

Lady Kissarna Vidre wasn't hungry anymore. She'd been trapped inside the tiny crawl space behind the tech room for quite some time, so she knew the sudden lack of clawing pain wasn't really a positive development. Two tiny spots of light had been ambitious enough to travel all the way from the window across the room in order to filter in though the narrow slits on the entrance to Kissarna's hiding place. Twice she'd watched them travel up one side of the narrow passageway, make their way across the top and back down the other side; only to fade away completely with the closing of the day. Twice she'd given in to necessity and scooted back in her hole and around one narrow corner to relieve herself; but as the single bottle of water she'd managed to smuggle away with her had been empty for hours, she didn't anticipate having to do that again. It was a good thing too, considering it would require more strength than she had left.

Three days ago Kissarna had been bored. _Bored and angry, angry and bored;_ she smiled bitterly as the insane mantra rattled around in head. She'd been forced to wear her elaborate ceremonial gowns and have her unruly red curls tortured into some semblance of a coiffure They'd instructed to act her whole thirteen years, to stand up straight, speak softly, play the part, and do her father proud. Kissarna couldn't decide if she should laugh or weep at the irony of it all, which was just as well considering that the monsters just might hear either.

Oh, they hadn't been frightening at first, no. They'd come just like everyone else across the galaxy; peoples of every shape and size and creed, all coming to celebrate her homeworld having achieved the impossible; one-thousand years of peace. Neo Portus, or _New Haven_ when translated from the ancient Latin, was exactly what its name promised; a place for those who had nowhere else to go. They'd started out as a planet full of refugees; survivors of war, or famine, or extreme prejudice. They'd built a civilization out of nothing and thrived. Despite Kissarna's general feelings of uselessness, she was proud of what her people had achieved; so she'd stood on the dais next to her father and watched his citizens cheer and celebrate. She'd sat up straight at supper, never letting her back come to rest against the chair as she spooned soup her mouth, careful not to spill a drop. She'd stood next to her father and shook the hands of Dictators, Emperors, Chancellors, Prime Ministers, Presidents, and Kings. She'd stared into the blood red eyes of a species she'd never seen before, greeted them regally, and then turned to the next one like a clockwork doll, never giving them a second though. And then New Haven had become Hell.

Kissarna would never forget the sound of her father's scream as the weapon discharged into his chest. She'd stood there, stunned, forgetting every second of the training she'd been given since birth; forgetting to run, to hide, to save herself. A monstrous, scaly green hand, that had looked so benign seconds ago as she'd shook it in greeting, had grabbed her around the waist to draw her away from her father's limp form.

"Papa!" she'd screamed, hysterical when the crisis called for level headed thinking, "Papa save me!" The monster had covered her mouth after that, muffling her cries and all but cutting off her breath. She'd kicked and squirmed, trying to loosen the vice-like grip but to no avail. Finally calling on her extensive survival training, Kissarna had wracked her brain trying to come up with some solution, some way to save the day when all she wanted to do was cry. She'd wished desperately to wake up now, to find out that this had been nothing but a horrible dream; to go running to Matron for a motherly hug, to spend the day in the garden with Marguerite, the head botanist, or the Tech room with Silas the electrician. Nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever be right again. How could one child save the world?

And then she'd remembered the boy.

Kissarna's fuzzy mind seemed to have forgotten how to remain focused, so she let herself get lost in the memory of that beautiful day…

* * *

The strange little family arrived suddenly, during a time of year where tourism wasn't really at its peak. Most people were saving their vacation time for three months hence when the peace celebration would be held. Claiming to be high ranking officials from off world, the trio managed to infiltrate the inner palace. Kissarna was immediately summoned to her father to help entertain them.

The three newcomers had been gathered within his private sitting room, eating donaberry cakes and laughing merrily. Kissarna took one look at them and immediately doubted their claim to the aristocracy; they were too happy, too much in love with life. The woman practically glowed with it; her pregnancy just beginning to fill her out in the middle. The man doted on her, his pinstripe clad arm resting protectively on his mate's shoulder. Kissarna was at once hit with an intense longing for her mother; a silly notion, since she'd never met her.

"Now who might this be?" The man asked as she entered the room. He stood politely at her presence as if this was a formal dining room and she was a full grown duchess. So she curtseyed, daring to play along, and pretended to be wearing a ball gown instead of her greasy overalls. Taking it one step further Kissarna smiled at him with all the court grace that the Matron was desperately trying to instill in her.

"This," Her Papa said suddenly, snapping her out of her fantasy, "little grease monkey is my lovely daughter Kissarna. Or at least I think she is under that disguise." Kissarna's jaw dropped in abject shock. Was her father _playing_? Was he actually teasing her? He didn't seem to notice her confusion though, and quickly motioned her forward, "Don't be shy. Come closer and meet the Doctor and his lovely family."

Kissarna approached the strangely compelling man who'd managed the impossible act of bringing her father out of his doldrums, "I've been in the tech room all day," she told him, enthusiasm plainly written across her smudged face. "We're developing a trans-microelectronic wave amplifier."

Her father piped up again in response, "My daughter delights in being contrary by preferring to spend her time working on machines or playing in the flower garden; anything that gets her hands dirty."

The Doctor smiled widely, lighting up the room, and reached out a hand to gently touch her face. "Oh I think that's brilliant," he said, wiping a smudge of grease off her cheek with his thumb, "Imagination and dirt. That combination can save the universe."

So enthralled with this magical man Kissarna almost missed the boy's approach. Suddenly to the left of her was a small version of The Doctor, complete with messy chestnut hair and a smattering of freckles. "Ah, Tyler," The man rubbed his hands together in apparent glee, "why don't you and little Miss Vidre…"

"Uh," her father interrupted, holding up a finger, "_Lady_ Vidre."

"_Lady_ Vidre," The Doctor acquiesced, looking suspiciously like he was stifling a laugh, "go off and get into the smallest amount of trouble you can manage, while your mum and I finish speaking with the Lord Chancellor here." The blond elbowed her mate in the ribs just then, causing The Doctor to blush sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, snapping out of his embarrassment long enough to make introductions, "Lady Kissarna," he gestured towards her, "My wife Rose; Rose, The Lady Kissarna."

Rose's grin was just as infectious as The Doctor's and Kissarna couldn't help but reciprocate. "Nice to meet you," she said, giving another slight curtsey.

The woman just waved, "hello."

"Now off you go," The Doctor said, motioning towards the door. "Slide down banisters, run through marble halls, make mud pies, and build a great bit fort." He pointed at his son with one long finger, "No starting intergalactic wars, no stealing diplomatic secrets, do not try and hack into any electronic databases you don't understand, and under no circumstances are you to speak to anyone with a zipper in their head. Got that?"

The grin on the boy's freckled face rivaled his father's in intensity. "Yes sir."

"Now I'm not sure that's such a great idea." Her father's stern tone was back and all levity was sucked out of the room in an instant.

"Naw," The Doctor moved his hand in an arching motion, as if the concept was so absurd he had to push it away. "These two don't need to sit here bored into mindlessness while we talk business." His face grew dark then and a little bit frightening, "Do they?"

Her Papa stumbled over his next words and Kissarna was horrified to see him so out of control. "Of course not," he stammered, "Go off then you two, like he said."

"Now that's the spirit!" The Doctor grabbed his son's head in both hands and leaned down to kiss the skin of his brow. He mumbled something to the boy, obviously not wanting an audience, but Kissarna caught most of it with her exceptional hearing. "See if you can find out what's been causing those strange readings," he said seriously before suddenly snapping back into gaiety. "Also, be her friend, have fun, and don't worry about your mum; I'll take care of her. That's _my_ job, alright?" She missed Tyler's response as she turned to look at the woman. On second glance she did look a bit pale under her glowing happiness. Kissarna hoped she wasn't ill. As for the strange readings, what could he possibly mean? Was something wrong with the project?

Tyler made it to the door ahead of her and Kissarna walked towards him without protest like a trained pet. She had little to no experience with children her own age and her apprehension of the forthcoming afternoon was palpable. Kissarna stared at him blankly as the massive wooden door slid closed behind them with an eerie click.

And then he smiled and held out his hand for hers. Instantly, incredibly, against all reason, she trusted him; this strange little boy with the even stranger family. So she took a chance, and then she took his hand.

They spent the whole day together, giggling and getting into sheer mischief the likes of which Kissarna had never dared to get into before. She showed him her wave amplifier, and instead of telling her that ladies didn't do those sorts of things he said that she was brilliant. She gave him a tour of the gardens and showed him the Solarian Roses. He proclaimed that, next to his mother, they were the prettiest flowers he'd ever seen; so she cut him a clipping to take home with him. She took him out onto her favorite balcony just as the second sun was setting and the third moon was rising and asked if it wasn't the most beautiful site he'd ever seen. He agreed, but he wasn't looking at the view.

Then, just before he left he told her about his amazing life in his father's magical machine. He told her about how the three of them traveled around the universe, going on adventure after adventure, and continually saving the day. She longed to go with him, and said as much, but then felt incredibly foolish when his face fell.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Kissarna truly believed he felt remorse.

"Don't be," She said, her voice as light as she could manage, "This has been the best day ever and I'll never forget it. Besides," she added proudly, "my father needs me."

Tyler chuckled at that, "I know the feeling."

Kissarna gave him a brilliant smile, "what would they do without us?" she asked cheekily, "Probably forget what they were doing and destroy the planet."

"Don't _even_ joke about that," he replied, chuckling lightly. Suddenly growing serious Tyler reached deep into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small blue device. "I want you to have this."

Kissarna took the object he offered and held it in her hand; its slight weight surprised her. "What is it?"

"It's my personal communicator." He told her, "It can reach me no matter how far away I am, any time of the day or night."

Kissarna looked up into his violet eyes, her own starting to sting a little. "Why?"

"If you ever need help, if you're ever hurt, or scared, or in trouble, if you're ever so sad you just can't stand it anymore, call me. I'll help you." He flashed her another stunning grin, "It's kind of what we do." And then he hugged her, and Kissarna was so startled by the embrace that she could do nothing else but return it. A few minutes and another mutual smile later he was gone; his departure filling the room with the sound of the universe.

* * *

Kissarna had forgotten about that day; well, not really forgotten, it was more like she'd put it out of her mind. After all, she wasn't ever going to see the boy again so there was no point in dwelling on his memory; even if it had been the loveliest day ever. But in those horrible few moments, when she was literally in the monster's grasp and everything that mattered to her was at risk, Kissarna remembered. She'd bit and clawed, and thrown a tantrum the likes of which the Palace at Neo Portus had never seen before. And then she'd gone limp.

Her captor had been so startled he'd dropped her on the spot, allowing Kissarna to make a break for it through the mazework of corridors that made up her home. No one could find a palace child if they didn't want to be found.

So now Kissarna found herself here; trapped in a prison of her own choosing, watching the tiny beams of light slowly fade around her for the third time. She clutched Tyler's communicator desperately, feeling the broken bits of it dig into her palm, and prayed that just maybe her cry for help had made it out of the dark.

* * *

The Doctor wrenched himself back into his own consciousness with a mighty heave; his whole body throbbing with exertion as if he'd just run a marathon. He barely had time to register the accomplishment before his son collapsed against him; shaking violently and damp with sweat.

"We...hafff…" Tyler's teeth chattered uncontrollably from exhaustion, slurring his words, "haff to… help her."

The Doctor gathered him into his arms, just like he'd done years ago when Tyler had been a much smaller child. The guilt at having just put him through such an ordeal was almost unbearable. "I'm sorry," he said, rocking his son back and forth," I'm so sorry."


	4. Promises and Ultimatums

_**Author's Note:** I realize it has been a very long time since I updated this and I'm very sorry. It got put on the back burner for some other projects in my life, both real and imagined. Feedback is love, please let me know if you are interested in more. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Promises and Ultimatums**

_I'm so sorry._

The Doctor rehearsed the phrase over and over in his mind, letting it echo like a mantra as he compelled his son into a deep and well-needed sleep. It repeated ruthlessly as he entered the lab to mix an infusion of exotic proteins and vitamins from across the galaxy, and continued as he carried the hot, nutrient rich tea down the corridor. He paused for a moment at the door to the bedroom he shared with Rose, letting the heated porcelain warm his hands and leaning his forehead against the cool surface of the wooden door. He had to do this; it was the right thing to do. All he had to say were three little words; "I'm so sorry." Extremely simple words when one took into account the three special ones he managed to say every day, the one's it had taken losing Rose to learn.

He had to keep them safe, had to make it clear. Three simple words were all it would take, "I'm so sorry," followed by three more; "you can't come." Emboldened, the Doctor straightened up. Six! Six words were easy. Six words rolled off the tongue like water, but could quickly bring down a government, destroy a hoard of angry Carrionites, and most importantly save his family. He could do this; he could manage six words. _Oh_, he thought, once again leaning against the door, this time rocking his forehead from side to side. He could do this; he could. But it was really going to _hurt_.

Mumbling the short sentence a couple of times under his breath for courage, the Doctor finally opened the door. Steeling himself for the confrontation soon to follow, he took a deep breath, and opening his mouth to say those three agonizing words, he…stopped.

Rose was sound asleep. She lay on her side in the center of the large bed, the four massive, coral-like pillars seeming to stand sentinel. Her legs were tangled hopelessly in the duvet; her arms protectively curled around her protruding middle. The warm gray, cotton trousers she'd changed into didn't quite reach high enough to meet the lose fitting vest top, exposing a strip of creamy white skin at the top of her hip bone. The Doctor could just see some of the beautifully drawn Orombia Fertility Runes peaking out from under the hem of the white top. Rose's golden pendant lay gently between her plump breasts, the little seal of Rassilon marking her as a Time Lady by marriage. It rose up and down with each deep breath she made, showing the Doctor that his wife had been asleep for quite some time. She was so beautiful, he thought, and as Rose would say, he was here to seriously "piss her off."

Crossing the room in a few short strides he eased himself onto the edge of the bed, being careful not to startle her too quickly. He took another second to drink in her loveliness, easing a few soft, yellow strands of hair behind the shell of her ear, before leaning over to gently whisper, "Rose."

* * *

Rose opened her eyes slowly; blinking against the dim light she'd left on for her husband. He was here now, whispering her name and touching her face, so she nudged her cheek into his hand, smiling at the contact. "Did you and Tyler have a good talk?"

"Yes we did," he answered, his voice low and somewhat mysterious, "he's sleeping now. Something I wish I could let you keep doing, since you need it so much, but you won't sleep a full eight hours without drinking your tea." Rose grimaced as he held the offending mug towards her. "Now don't give me that face," he complained, pointing at her with the index finger of his free hand, "You can't deny you felt better today and you know you'll wake up feeling ill and uncomfortable if you skip it. I worked hard to make this for you. These kinds of nutrients don't grow on trees you know." Rose rolled her eyes. "All right they do," he quickly amended, "but not on any trees you're familiar with, and none that are easy to get to." With that he thrust the mug into her reluctant hands, careful not to spill any of the hot liquid on either her or the duvet.

Rose sipped the foul, tea-like substance tentatively, reluctantly admitting to herself that while it was quite possibly the most disgusting thing she'd ever had the misfortune to taste, she _had_ felt a lot more like herself today. Perhaps all the Doctor's experimenting with what would keep both her and the baby healthy was finally paying off. Deciding it was cool enough, Rose gulped the remaining liquid down with a shudder of abject revulsion, before setting the mug down on her bedside table.

She watched as the Doctor took a few steps away from her, keeping both hands in his trouser pockets and looking about as comfortable as a she had the first time he'd taken her off world. His whole stance screamed that something was terribly wrong, but she fought the desire to go and sooth him, waiting him out. "Did he tell you anything?"

The Doctor's shoulders suddenly slumped, going from action-ready stiff, to absolutely dejected in a heartbeat, as if the weight of the universe had suddenly become too much for him to hold. Still facing away from her, he spoke to the wall. "Do you remember the Lord-Chancellor's daughter from Neo Portus?"

"You mean the cute little ginger girl?" Rose lit up like a signal flare, quickly scrambling off the bed to go and face him, "the one that Tyler took a quick fancy to?"

The Doctor glared at her incredulously. "How is it that everyone sees these things but me, hmm? I raised that boy from a baby. I changed his nappies! How could I not have noticed him taking an interest in her?"

"Because you changed his nappies." Rose's voice was soft as she helped her husband remove his jacket.

"What?"

"In here," she tapped him lightly on the head, "he's still your little boy. You don't see the things that make him anything else because you don't look. You don't even think to look."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but for once no words managed to escape his lips. Rose managed not to smile at the adorable expression of confusion and denial that transformed his features. He'd changed so much in the thirty years he'd spent without her. Sometimes, even with their child growing inside of her, the extent of his domesticity still shocked her.

The Doctor sat down heavily on the bed with a weary sigh. He pulled at his tie for a moment, but abandoned it mid tug in favor of ruffling his hair. "He's growing up."

He looked so dejected that the need to comfort nearly overwhelmed her. She scrambled back up onto the bed in order to wrap her arms around him. "It's okay you know," she told him. "Every parent gets like this. You should have seen my mum the first time I got my period. She thought the world was going to end because I wasn't her 'little baby' anymore. 'Course, she then felt an immediate need to pull a box of condoms out of her beside drawer and explain…"

"Stop!" The Doctor quickly held up his hands. "Just stop right there, Rose Tyler. Right. There." He visibly shuddered before hopping up from the bed and again torturing his scalp with all ten fingertips. "As much as I would like to hear what promises to be Jackie's incredibly," he swallowed convulsively, "descriptive, explanation of the birds and the bees, I think we can skip it just this...oh!" He spun towards her, suddenly mad in his excitement. "He's growing up!"

Rose just looked at him, at once confused. "That's right. They all do it at some point. It's nothing to get…"

"No Rose," he interrupted. "Tyler isn't human, and for all that he's my son he isn't a Time Lord either. I've been so focused on keeping you and the baby healthy I didn't even see what was happening right in front of me. I know so little about his species, more than anyone else mind you, but still next to nothing, that I got it wrong."

"What's this all about," Rose needed him to just spit it out. "What happened tonight? Who was on the phone?"

"Tyler's abilities have been growing in leaps and bounds. Other peoples' emotions have been bombarding him and he's having trouble controlling it. He's making telepathic connections within his family group, _including_ the TARDIS, which is magnifying an already overwhelming amount of stimulus to a nearly unbearable degree. He's inside your mind nearly all the time, experiencing your backaches and temperamental moods. He's been keeping it a secret in a misguided attempt not to worry us."

"Oh my God." Rose's tea threatened to come back up. She felt both guilty and violated at the same time.

"I thought he might be sick," he continued excitedly, completely oblivious to his wife's growing distress. "I thought he might have been infected with a parasitic Markovian Telepath Worm, or hypnotized by some type of super empathic megalomaniac, when all this time it was so much simpler, a basic biological fact." He plopped back down on the bed again, leaning forward to dejectedly rest his head in his hands. "He's been going through puberty."

It was Rose's turn to be frantic. She stood up from her place on the bed, her breaths coming in little pants as acid churned in her stomach. "All the time?" Her voice was sharp, leaning towards the wrong side of panic. "Our son, our _sixteen_-year-old son, who is closer to eleven by Earth standards, is inside my head all the time?"

"Oh," The Doctor looked a bit sheepish. "I hadn't actually intended to tell you like that; meant to soften the blow just a bit, so to speak." Rose made an inarticulate whimper of distress and backed away from him. The Doctor reached out a comforting arm as he moved to follow her, but his wife evaded him. "Rose," he said, attempting to sooth her, Rose, Love it's okay.

Hot, angry, embarrassed, _horrified _tears streamed down her face as she had more and more time to consider the ramifications of the Doctor's words. "Oh my God!" She covered her mouth with one hand and nearly doubled over as the red haze of panic threatened to overwhelm her. "This is NOT okay. Our son is inside my head. All. The. Time. What do you think he sees Doctor? We don't spend all night doing our itaxes!/i I don't wear my sexy pajamas because the TARDIS likes them. I've probably scarred him for life. He's going mad because of ime/i.

"No!" The Doctor took two large steps and enveloped her in his arms. He cupped her cheek with one palm, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "No Rose," he said, his tone soft but inviting no argument. "When we're together," he faltered for a moment, as if unsure how to continue. "When we make love there's no one in your mind but me. No one feels you but me. My mental shields protect you.

Rose took a deep, fortifying breath. "Yeah?"

"I promise."

Her whole body sagged in glorious relief at his words and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, letting him rock her back and forth for a second. Despite never having spoken of it, Rose had known for some time that something special happened between them during their most intimate moments. She'd felt stirrings of him in her mind, affectionate whispers that had no real sound. Lifting her head to gaze into his eyes, she asked, "Why didn't you ever mention it before?"

"I didn't want to upset you," he answered softly, reaching up to caress her cheek. "Sharing emotions on that level is a natural part of intimacy for a Time Lord. I didn't want you to miss something you could never have."

"There you go again," she teased him, lightening the mood as best as she could, "assuming you know everything."

"What?" The Doctor's big brown eyes grew impossibly larger.

"You sing to me. Well," she amended, mimicking her husband's tendency to digress, "Most of the time you sing, sometimes it's more like a mantra, and usually I can't understand a word." She grew serious again, "but it's always beautiful. It always feels like love, like home. I waited for you to tell me about it yourself and when you never did, I assumed you didn't realize it yourself. I didn't want to embarrass you."

"Oh Rose." He spoke her name like a prayer and she watched his face light up in pure joy. "My incredible, wonderful, _impossible_ Rose, you can feel me. Do you know what this means?"

"More adventurous sex?"

"No. Well," he waved his hand as if pushing the concept away for a second for a second, "maybe later. This means you have some latent psychic abilities. It should be just enough to teach you to build some personal shields. Not only will this help Tyler stay out of your mind, but anyone else who wants to invade it. You are absolutely, one hundred percent, brilliant."

"Okay," Rose beamed at him. "That's wonderful, and you can start teaching me how to do it straight away, but you still haven't told me what's going on. Why did you bring up the little girl from Neo Portus?" She gasped as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly snapped together in her mind. "Tyler gave his mobile to her didn't he? He fancied her, we took him away, so he left it in order to keep in touch. That was Kissarna who phoned us, wasn't it? She needs our help."

"Yes." He answered, a wealth of meaning in the single syllable. "Can't surprise you with anything can I?" Rose grinned smugly at him, but he missed it, gently pulling away from her once again to pace to the wall. He turned back towards her once he reached it, leaning his long frame against the smooth surface. "Tyler's developed a telepathic link with the girl. Through it we were able to discover why she contacted us."

"What happened?"

"Her people were attacked; I'm not sure by whom. She sees them as monsters, and since I could only see what she sees, I didn't get a very clear picture. Kissarna ran away, hiding herself in a crawl space too small for the invaders to find her in. I've cut off all possible communication between Tyler's mobile and the TARDIS. She won't be able to contact us again, which means we won't get entangled in her timeline any more than necessary."

Rose couldn't believe what she was hearing. "We just can't abandon her! We should be leaving right now, they could find her at any minute."

"As long as we stay out of her timeline I can land the TARDIS within a few minutes after she made the call. She should be in the exact same condition she is now when I go find her."

Rose's blood grew instantly cold. "When _you_ go find her?"

The Doctor didn't flinch. "Yes. Tyler's not stable enough to go with me. I've left him with a temporary psychic block, but it's a bit like plugging up a hole on the Hoover Damn with a wad of chewing gum. If anything happens to that little girl I don't even want to think about what he could do. I need you to take care of him for me, keep him safe."

"This isn't just about Tyler is it?" Rose bit the inside of her lip for a moment, trying to stifle the rage that threatened to surface. "You're trying to keep me out of this and I won't have it. What if you need me? What if you get into trouble and you can't fix it on your own?" Rose's eyes began to burn, a flood of angry, desperate tears held back by sheer will. "What if you leave us somewhere and then come back years later by accident? You've done it before. I can't lose you again, I can't." She hugged her middle protectively as she choked back a sob. "I can't have this baby without you!"

"Rose." He was with her in a heartbeat, cupping her face between his palms and gently forcing her to make eye contact. "I can't take you with me, I can't. What I told you about Tyler is true; it's too dangerous to put him in such an emotional situation right now. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but you'd be as much of a liability as he is. You can't run anymore. You're tired and weak, and I know it's entirely my fault and I'm sorry, but these people are armed. You wouldn't be able to get out of the way fast enough." Rose opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "And regardless of your body's incredible regenerative abilities, I very much doubt you could come back after being disintegrated."

"I don't care." The words were a lie, but she couldn't yet bring herself to admit it. "I'm not leaving you."

"Yes you are." His words were firm, absolutely adamant. "You're going to take yourself and our children somewhere safe and I'm going to come back for you before you know it."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes I can." He answered, ignoring her shaking head, "because I can't lose you either." Rose squeezed her eyes shut, letting a single tear escape down her cheek.  
"And even if something did happen," he continued, "Even if I was…delayed. You Rose Tyler, would be just fine, better than fine in fact, you'd be magnificent. I've never met a stronger woman in my whole life." He smiled, moving his thumb to wipe the tear away, "And that's really saying something. You married a very, very old man."

Rose let out a broken laugh, "cradle robber."

"Does that make you my trophy wife?" She watched as the Doctor's mouth stretched into a decidedly smug grin. "I quite like the sound of that." He pulled her closer into his arms and Rose felt his lips gently brush against her ear."

"Do you now?" Rose pushed the anger and desperation aside and leaned into his touch. If this was goodbye, even temporarily, she didn't want to waste it. "I thought you had to be fantastically rich to get one of those?"

"I suppose that's out then," he answered softly, before moving up to kiss her temple. Rose gasped as her mind was suddenly flooded by a wave of intense longing. "Good thing I only want you."

She cuddled into him, reaching up to kiss the side of his neck. "Yeah," she whispered, "a good thing."

Long fingers snaked up under Rose's white, strappy vest top and skimmed up her back, causing her to stretch like a kitten begging to be touched. His voice was rough as he asked her, "Are you ready for your first lesson?" Rose just nodded against his skin as she felt herself melt a little more from his touch. "Just relax and open your mind. Let me in."

Images flooded her mind's eye, overwhelming her with different intimate possibilities all layered on top of one another. Rose felt herself grow warm all over and started breathing in little pants.

"Block most of it out, Love," he whispered, his lips as soft as butterfly wings against her hair. "Choose the one you want and isolate it."

It was easier than she'd imagined, the incentive to achieve so much better than anything she'd learned in school. Singling out just one image, Rose blocked out the rest, and reflected her choice back to her husband.

It was the Doctor's turn to gasp, and Rose could feel the evidence of her success pressed firmly against her hip. "That's very good," he told her breathlessly, "very, very good."

In a whirlwind of movement she was up in his arms, cradled in his strength as he carried her across the room. The lights dimmed even further as he laid her gently in the center of the large bed, the four coral like pillars towering over them as he climbed up beside her. Their lips met in a passionate kiss and Rose made her hands busy with removing his shirt, releasing each button in turn until she could run her fingers over the warm expanse of skin. Every touch, every movement was echoed back and forth, until she couldn't tell where she ended and the Doctor began. The intensity of it should have frightened her, but instead, with Rose's newfound ability to control it, she only felt empowered.

_I love you._ The Doctor's silent words were accompanied by a fresh wave of matching emotion. _I love you so much._

Reaching even deeper inside herself, pushing herself to the limit, Rose answered him the same way. _I know._


	5. Mistakes

Warning: there is one brief instance of swearing in this chapter. Please be advised.

* * *

Chapter 5

Mistakes

"I know this is difficult to understand." Tyler hardly listened as the words washed over him, preferring to burry his face behind a worn brown baseball cap and intently study the laces on his trainers. The Doctor shaped man kneeling before him went on and on about duty and responsibility. He apologized repeatedly for what he had to do and who he had to leave behind. He promised to return.

It all meant next to nothing to Tyler, who couldn't quite convince himself that anything in this room actually existed. Last night he'd been nearly crushed by unrefined borrowed emotion, but this morning it was the opposite that threatened to bring him to his knees. A great gaping emptiness had taken up residence in his mind. It was like he'd woken up but never quite stopped dreaming. Nothing felt real anymore.

He could see his father crouched before him, feel the pressure from each finger as they gently clasped his shoulders. Rose was across the console room, her lovely face turned down in concern as she absently rubbed her protruding middle. He received nothing from them, not a thought, not an emotion, not even the tiny flickering in the back of his mind that said his sister was still healthy in his mother's womb. Even the TARDIS felt silent. He been blinded and was terrified to move lest he injure himself in the darkness.

"Tyler, Son, are you listening to me?"

"What?" His head snapped up to meet the Doctor's gaze, but the image was suddenly blurry, his vision clouded.

"Tyler, you have to focus." Strong hands reached up to cup his face, fingertips just brushing his hairline. "Look into my eyes, that's it."

Instantly everything came rushing back in crystal clarity and he felt his family's presence as keenly as he ever had. Tyler gasped, bringing huge breaths of air into his lungs. Tears burned at his eyelids as he realized what had been done to him; he never wanted to feel that alone ever again.

"Hey now," his dad's voice was once again accompanied by the familiar mental presence he'd felt for as long as he could remember. Tyler's whole body shivered in trepidation as he realized it would only remain as long as his father kept touching him. "Shh," strong arms enveloped him, rocking him back and forth as if he were still a small child.

"Don't let go," Tyler's voice was barely more than a whimper. "Don't leave me all alone."

"I'm so sorry. You know I have to go." The words were as genuine as the remorse he felt coming off his dad, but they did nothing to calm his fragile nerves.

"No." Tyler fisted his hands into his father's suit jacket, squeezing the blue material until his knuckles turned white. "You can't."

"Your friend, Kissarna, needs me. She, and many of her people, will die if I don't go."

"Take me with you," he pleaded. "She's _my_ friend. She needs _me_."

"I can't do that. It's too dangerous with the state you're in right now. I don't know what the strain would do to you and I can't monitor you and find a way to save Kissarna at the same time."

"Then take the mental block away. I need to feel someone else besides me. I'll go mad if I don't. I know I will."

The Doctor pulled back to look his son in the eye. Tyler clung to his hands, desperate to maintain physical contact. "Rose doesn't speak Universal Basic, so I can't leave you on a quiet outpost somewhere. We're in London in the year two thousand and forty. There are more than eight million people in that city, let alone the seven billion on the whole planet. You've been having trouble processing the four consciousnesses you're exposed to every day. Reading the emotions of that many strangers at once could burn you up like a short match. The block stays."

Tyler tried to protest, but the fear of being alone in his own mind again choked the sound before it could emerge. He swallowed convulsively, mortified when two hot tears streaked down his cheeks.

"You won't be alone," the Doctor promised, reaching up with one hand to wipe the tears away. I will i_never_/i leave you all alone. Your mum's going to be with you the whole time. I've been teaching her to put up mental barriers so she won't accidentally hurt you anymore, but she can leave them down while I'm gone. If you focus, and I know you can, you should be able to feel her. Hold her hand if you need to; the physical contact will help support the link. It will be enough to ground you until I return for you both."

"What if you don't come back?"

The Doctor flashed him a deceptively confident grin. "Not going to happen."

Panic bubbled up from the pit of Tyler's stomach, threatening to displace his last meal. "You don't know that. I can tell when you're lying. You want to come back but you can't guarantee it."

"I have to go." One gentle tug and the Doctor pulled his hand free of Tyler's grasp. The emptiness he'd felt earlier crashed in around him so completely that his vision went black for a second. All he could hear was his heart beating out a frantic tattoo, all he could feel was some inexplicable emotion that belonged only to him. How did the rest of the universe cope with so much silence, so much solitude? He stumbled back a few steps, equal parts horrified and indignant as the urge to lash out became his single most important drive. The hollowness inside him was instantly filled with rage.

"You're a liar."

"Tyler, don't do this. You have to calm down. Concentrate on your mother." The Doctor motioned towards the far end of the room. "Rose, I need you to get closer to him."

"Don't touch me!" He jerked out of her reach before she could make contact, his movements becoming more and more like a cornered beast. "You don't care about me anymore; why should you? You've got a child of your own on the way, a precious Time Lord baby."

"What are you saying?" The Doctor's face fell into a mask of confused grief, but Tyler was too hysterical to care. "You know that's not true."

"Do I? You've never left me behind before, never! I've seen you do it to everyone else, over and over again, whether they liked it or not, but I always thought you'd keep me with you. I'm supposed to be your son."

"You _are_ my son."

A bitter laugh escaped his mouth. "You have a funny way of showing it. Last time I checked, _abandonment_ wasn't a category for father of the year."

"Stop it right now." The Doctor's voice took on a hard edge as he stepped towards him. "You don't know what you're saying."

Tyler evaded him. "So now you know how I'm feeling, do you? I suppose you might, seeing as how I can't tell anymore since you've psychically lobotomized me. But then again, your bullshit's always been one more thing that's bigger on the inside."

"Tyler!" It was Rose's voice this time. Her shock at hearing him swear was obvious, despite his deadened abilities.

A tiny bit of remorse made its way past his hysterical anger, but he refused to acknowledge it. He wanted his father to hurt like he was hurting, to understand exactly what this was doing to him. Rage built upon rage, but there were no other voices to drown it out. He had done this to him. /iHe/i had caused him to suffer like no one should ever have to suffer, alone.

He looked up as his father, his brilliant eyes swirling with livid purple flames. "I hate you!"

Tyler blanched. The wave of pain that shot out from the Doctor then was so powerful it cracked the barriers in Tyler's psyche with an audible pop. He staggered back, horrified by what he'd done, as hot tears once again leaked down his face. He stood there for a second, staring into the pallid face of the man who'd raised him as his own. Both his father's anguish and his mother's horrified shock trickled in around the newly made gap in his mind, filling him with the utmost revulsion. Tyler's contempt however was no longer for the Doctor, but for himself, the most ungrateful boy who'd ever lived. All the "I'm sorry's" in the universe would not be enough to fix this.

"Oh god." Tyler took off in a run, through the TARDIS's double doors and out into the night. He found himself in a deserted part of town. A streetlamp a few feet away illuminated a plastic bench had he threw himself face down upon it. "Oh god, oh god, Oh god," the words came out in hysterical sobs.

What had he done? His father was leaving in a few moments, maybe never to return, and he thought his son hated him. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The TARDIS doors creaked inelegantly behind him and a few moments later a soft hand was petting his hair. His mother's loving comfort surrounded him through their link. It was a gesture he most certainly didn't deserve and it filled him with even more self loathing.

"I hurt him mum."

"I know."

Tyler sat up. He sniffed and rubbed frantically at his nose and eyes, attempting to erase all traces of emotion. "I'm still angry he's leaving us, but I'm really sorry I said what I did. I didn't mean it."

"I know that too."

"He's gonna hate me now." Tyler's voice cracked and he could feel his face crumpling all over again. Rose pulled him into her arms and let him cry.

"Shh," she whispered, lightly touching his cheek to more securely link their psychic bond. "He could never hate you and neither could I."

"He took me in when I was a baby," he continued brokenly. "He saved me from becoming an animal in a zoo. He loved me when he had no obligation to and I just threw it back into his face."

"Love isn't an obligation, it's a choice. Your father chose to love you; one argument isn't going to change that."

"I don't deserve his love."

"No one ever does. That's what makes it so precious. You know how many times I told my mum I hated her when I was a teenager?"

Tyler pulled back and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his brown hoodie. "No."

"Way, way more than once. We Tyler women can have a bit of a temper." Rose let out a genuine laugh and rubbed her belly. "You just watch when this little one pops out. Forget the 'Oncoming Storm,' she'll probably be immediately upgraded to a hurricane."

He giggled at the absurd image, letting himself imagine a little tyrant of a girl exasperating his dad.

"There's that smile." Rose reached into her bag and pulled out a white handkerchief. "Here you go; you can stop using your clothes now."

"Ta." Tyler blew his nose loudly before stuffing the hankie in the front pocket of his hoodie. "So where do we go from here?"

"Metaphorically or realistically?"

Tyler let out another laugh, this one a bit more heartfelt, "Realistically, for now."

"Good, because I'm not so sure I could answer the first one." Rose reached into her bag again and pulled out two more items. "What I can do, is help keep your mind off, well…"she giggled again, "your mind. I have a psychic credit card and your dad's psychic paper. What do you say we find the best hotel in London and eat room service until we're ready to explode?"

"I say it sounds like a good plan." She held out her hand and he took it gladly, grateful to keep their link as free flowing as possible. The tiny crack he'd made helped a little bit, but physical contact was always better.

A quick glance at his temporal wristwatch confirmed it was a little after two in the morning, so finding a taxi might be slightly more difficult than usual. They walked away from the TARDIS and further down the deserted street, searching for a sign to point them towards a main road. It wasn't until a few moments later that he noticed something was decidedly strange about this place.

"Mum?" Tyler voice was full of confusion.

"Yes?"

"Why do all the street signs have the words printed on them twice?"

"What?" The confusion on Rose's face mirrored his own as she realized what he had. Every sign on the street was absurdly redundant, from "SLOW, SLOW" to "NO ENTRY, NO ENTRY."

A creeping suspicion sparked in Tyler's mind, only to be confirmed a moment later as the grating sounds of the TARDIS dematerializing filled the air. With the ship's telepathic field out of range the repeated words on each sign changed from English to something decidedly unintelligible. Tyler mentally kicked himself for never having learned Welsh.

"Well," Rose let out an exasperated sigh as they continued down the street. "I'm sure the room service in Cardiff is just as good as in London."

"Right."


End file.
